


Yours

by Cascaper



Series: Keeping Composure [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), i'm not taking the ear/tail references out of this one, oh such foolishness and fun tra la, they were too much fun to write, they're back at the Rising Stones for some reason in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 21:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16840651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascaper/pseuds/Cascaper
Summary: A tale of mislaid papers, old locks and affectionate nonsense.Takes place at some nebulous point between 4.2 and 4.3. Written as part of the FFxiv2018 Challenge.





	Yours

Alphinaud is not one to pry. Truly, he is not. But when it comes to his beloved he is… weak, shall we say. A weakness that has decreased but slightly in the wake of their clandestine courtship.

There are limits, naturally; he would as soon cut off a finger as peruse her journal. On the other hand, when he spots an abandoned sheet of paper on the floor outside her room, he would be remiss not to pick it up. Just to see—ah yes, it is her handwriting. Best return it to her desk, then.

Only… his name is written there.

Multiple times.

Unable to help himself, Alphinaud has read halfway down the page in seconds. It is… a list of titles.

_Alphinaud ~~Silvertongue~~ Silkentongue (?)_  
_Alphinaud, Star-Summoner_  
_Alphinaud Leveller/Levin-eur? -ha! puns_  
_Alphinaud ~~of Onyx and Ruby~~ -no. Silver and Sapphire, more like.  
_ _Ser Alphinaud of the Sapphire Garter_

Sapphire…Garter?! Face burning, Alphinaud makes to open [Name]’s door, the better to put the strange list among her things where it belongs. He will ask her about it later. Or possibly never speak of it again. Or- confound it, the door is locked! He shall have to slide it beneath…

“Alphinaud?”

He freezes halfway to a kneel. Looks slowly up, as if by delaying the visual he can perhaps change what he has heard. But there she stands, the woman herself: tail flicking uncertainly, one brow up under her bangs. 

“[Name],” he says, cringing at how guilty he sounds. It was an accident, a simple mistake he was attempting to set right. She has hardly caught him red-handed.

“What’s going on? Did you need something?”

“No. Er, yes. Ah. Merely…” Oh, it’s no use. “I was passing by, and I found something of yours. I was trying to put it back.”

[Name] takes the proffered list, scans it. “Of mine…? _Oh!_ ” One hand flies to her mouth, curled fingers pressed to its corner. “Oh gods. Um. I’ve been looking for this, actually, so thank you, but- oh dear, you weren’t supposed to see it…” Her ears twitch, a sure sign of embarrassment. _Well done, Leveilleur._

As if the universe wishes to compound the awkwardness of the situation, footsteps sound at the end of the hall. They stare at each other, Alphinaud and [Name], in mutual panic for suspended seconds. What to do? What to-

“ _Shite_ ,” [Name] hisses, stuffing the list into her pocket and pulling out the key to her door. Misses the lock, once, twice- there, she’s got it, the door is open and they whisk themselves inside. Alphinaud can feel the pounding of his pulse in the base of his throat as they hold their breath, waiting for the footsteps to be gone.

He makes it to thirty in a silent count before he feels it safe to exhale.

[Name] slumps against the wall. “That was close.”

“Who was it, do you think?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not…” Alphinaud frowns. Does it? Should it…?

There’s a muffled snort. Then a snicker.

“[Name]?”

She bursts into giggles. “I c- I can’t believe we just… hid in my room… to escape being seen together outside my room…”

Alphinaud does not know why she finds this so funny, but he catches her giggles anyway. Is forced, in fact, to catch hold of the doorframe for support as he laughs. It takes some minutes for either of them to get themselves under control. 

“Okay,” [Name] says, when their mutual fit has passed. “I think we should leave one at a time. Make it seem like we were in the area on separate pursuits. Yeah?” (He nods.) “Okay,” she repeats, and goes to crack open the door.

He has never seen her ears drop so fast. “We, ah… have a problem.” 

“A problem.” (He does not say it as a question, but more an expression of foreboding.) 

“I… left the key on the other side of the door. It’s stuck.”

A single high note of alarm zings through Alphinaud’s head. _No, no. Stay calm. Focus._ “Can we push it out?”

She jiggles the door. “It’s all sideways. But we can try.”

Or not, as nothing in the room seems to be either small or firm enough. “Then we shall have to call for help.”

[Name] whips out her linkpearl, dials one after another of the Scions in the area. None of them seem to be answering. Don’t they know these things are for emergencies? Even embarrassing ones? “Damn it! You try.”

“But if I call, then won’t it seem odd that I did not simply seek them out?”

“It’s the middle of the day. Hardly anyone’s here right now. Besides, you could say you were staying nearby for support.” 

Yet Alphinaud has no luck either. Fantastic. They determine to wait for the sound of another passerby before resorting to shouts.

* * *

Despite not having heard the chiming of any clocks, Alphinaud is convinced that they have been stuck here for bells. Where _is_ everyone today? If he did not know better, he would think the others are deliberately staying away as some misguided prank. Meanwhile, there is still the mystery that led them into this predicament. 

“So,” he begins. “I hesitate to ask, but… I was wondering—”

“—what that list of titles was about?” [Name] finishes. 

“Yes.” 

She shifts in her seat, ears twitching a little. “Well, I- um. I was thinking the other day, about that sort of thing. How they kind of have to be given to you by other people. Like nicknames, you know- you can’t really give them to yourself. But last time you had one, it was- it ended badly.” A cough, as she stares at the floor. “So… I thought you should have one, a nice one, even if it’s only between us.”

He takes this in. Turns it over. Perhaps he leaves the silence a second too long, for [Name] speaks up again. 

“I mean, I know it’s a bit silly. But I was thinking, like someone in a ballad, right? And I know I already wrote you the ballad, but ‘my white-haired lad’ doesn’t quite have the right tone. You should have something grand, something fine. Distinctive. Alphinaud… ‘the Constant.’ Or maybe ‘the Worthy.’ Did you- did you want to see the list again? You could help me narrow it down. Might help us pass the time…” She trails off, looking anxiously at him. 

And a footstep sounds in the hall, breaking the moment.

“Hey! Hello out there!” [Name] calls. “Scuse me!” 

The step comes closer. “[Name]?”

“Yes, hi, could you come here? I need help…”

* * *

Later, they are in the room for better reasons- free to come and go, but wishing for the moment to stay. Nestled in each other’s arms. 

“I have been thinking on your idea about titles,” he tells her. “I believe I know which I would have.” 

She stretches. “Oh, good. What is it?”

“If ‘tis just between ourselves, then I would simply be- yours.” 


End file.
